The Case of the Killers Key

Hello? Yes, this is the Falcon speaking. Oh, Sherry. I'm glad you called. I'll have to cancel me out tonight, Angel. I'm all jammed up. Some client of mine wants me to locate a missing girl.

He doesn't care what it costs, so naturally I'm going to shoot the works. Once again, the debentures of the Falcon, dedicated to private investigators everywhere. Those hard-hitting detectives who like Mike Waring risk their lives to aid law enforcement agencies.

So join him now when the Falcon solves the case of the killer's key. It was early afternoon in New York and in a shabby rooming house in Midtown Manhattan, a nervous young man named Larry Gordon gives himself a dose of artificial courage then deciding for the treatment as indicated he starts pouring again.

Who is it? Me, Barry, open up. Wait a minute, Claire. Did you get them? Everything. You, you fly to Chicago. And there I made a reservation for you on the California limit. What name did you use?

Larry Holcomb. Good. When's the plane leave? 825 tonight. Couldn't you get me out sooner? No. Listen, Larry, I still think you're making a mistake. Running away is no solution. Are you crazy? Maybe this isn't as bad as you think.

It's worse. If not ever lays his hands on me, that's it. I think you're wrong. Look, I work for the man for eight years. I know how his mind operates. I never should have opened my yacht to those treasury boys in the first place.

You had to, darling. Why? Was someone twisting my arm? They got enough on him to send him up for ten years. But without you, they've got no case. I don't think that Mr. Hunt doesn't know it. Now, if you want to help me pack...